


The Unimportance of the Stuffed Unicorn

by ArcheaMajuar



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 05:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20465795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcheaMajuar/pseuds/ArcheaMajuar
Summary: The corners of Geralt’s mouth attempted to twitch upwards, however, the witcher managed to regain his self-control, shaking his head.“Anyway... I’ve come to ask you for something,” admitted Dandelion firmly, even though his posture went from a self-confident to almost a sheepish one, his cheeks growing pinkish.





	The Unimportance of the Stuffed Unicorn

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Když ani vycpaný jednorožec není potřeba](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6353464) by [ArcheaMajuar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcheaMajuar/pseuds/ArcheaMajuar). 

> English is not my mother tongue as I'm from the Czech Republic. There are mistakes in the story, I know, but I just don't have anyone around to give me their feedback on the fic, grammar and so on (but if you'd like to let me know about the mistakes, please, do so in the comments or just send me an email (you find it on my profile page), it'd be much appreciated)
> 
> I'm really sorry for the errors, but I hope you'll enjoy this work anyway :)
> 
> (I also wanted to dedicate this translation to a person who asked for it, though they don't have a proper account here apparently, so... Dear person, it's for you :D)

Geralt entered the room and looked around.

_Too glamorous_, he commented internally on the equipment as his cat-like eyes examined the whole area. He didn’t complain though because, more or less, he got what he paid for.

Dandelion had talked him into that, babbling something about treating themselves once in a time, and Geralt surrendered, hoping it would put a stop to the bard’s tirade. Now he ended up with something completely different from what he was used to, meaning he was standing in a room that was filled with ornamented pieces of furniture. There was a sturdy table, bathtub, bookshelf, giant bed, two well-cushioned armchairs, and in front of a fireplace was spread a fluffy fur blanket.

Just the stuffed unicorn was missing.

Closing the door behind him, Geralt headed towards the fireplace where he set the fire, and barely did he stand up before somebody knocked. A group of servants stumbled in, bringing jugs with hot water that was right away poured into the wooden tub. Geralt thanked them and utterly magnetized, his eyes lingered on the tub, from which clouds of mist were rising, hovering above, promising him a proper bath which he, indeed, needed.

He laid the both of his swords on the table, then he removed his boots, gloves, and trousers. The armour was next to be put aside, followed by his shirt and underwear, and he sighed contently as he dove himself into the water that hungrily embraced all of his tired muscles, making them relax quite similarly like Geralt’s mind was resting now, for once his thoughts at peace. After a few minutes he fetched himself a soap and some kind of shampoo, getting his skin rid of dirt and that odour that must’ve been disgusting, but when on the Path, he didn’t really care he smelled like a Grave hag. Despite that he couldn’t resist the opportunity to take a bath, scrub himself clean, and just indulge in some respite.

As the water was getting cold, Geralt opted for leaving the tub, though his clothes remained untouched. The room had become heated enough thanks to the fire, and the fur blankets kept even his feet warm. Just for the sake of it, he grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his hips, and then he seated himself in one of the armchairs, and as soon as he did so, relaxing a bit in the upholstery, a series of knocks hit the door. It was a rhythmical one this time, echoing through the room until Geralt barked out the permission for the visitor to enter.

From his place in the armchair he had a perfect view at the intruder, dressed in awfully colourful gown, under which Geralt guessed the bard was naked. His hair was still wet, and Geralt immediately started to wonder what his friend was up to.

“Geralt, I’ve decided to check up on you whether you are satisfied with the room you’ve been provided with,” warbled Dandelion just as he spotted Geralt, then he closed the door behind his back and ventured towards the witcher, never quite reaching his destination as he halted with hesitation written all over his face. A hint of suspicion emerged within his handsome features. The pair of dark brown eyes scanned Geralt from his hair to the toes, noticing the white towel around his hips as well.

“Have I interrupted you in the middle of something?” he asked, eyebrows raised, his hands coming up to his sides.

The corners of Geralt’s mouth attempted to twitch upwards, however, the witcher managed to regain his self-control, shaking his head.

“Anyway... I’ve come to ask you for something,” admitted Dandelion firmly, even though his posture went from a self-confident to almost a sheepish one, his cheeks growing pinkish.

Geralt shifted a bit on the armchair, his catlike eyes watching intently the bard whose sudden change of behaviour had caught Geralt’s attention. The second Dandelion seized the belt of his gown, pulling if free, Geralt got the idea what his friend could be potentially calling for, and truth be told, Geralt was far from saying no. Experiencing the first signs of arousal springing within his body, he witnessed as the bard’s only piece of clothing sauntered vaguely to the ground, inspiring Geralt to trace Dandelion’s pale chest and stomach with his eyes that lingered on his friend’s hard cock, displaying its interest in the situation already.

“I guess you’re request is an urgent one,” Geralt smirked and gestured his friend to come closer. Once Dandelion stopped in front of him, the witcher couldn’t resist eyeing his beautiful body, slender and scar less. He placed his palm on the soft and warm skin, mapping the bard’s abs, hips, back, kneading the muscles of Dandelion’s ass while he leaned into his stomach, kissing it tenderly. Geralt then narrowed his back again, navigating the bard closer, between his legs, so his mouth could travel higher up Dandelion’s chest, leaving a wet path behind his ministrations.

Upon reaching his friend’s key bone, he maneuvered the very pliant younger man onto his lap. Dandelion understood the idea, positioned himself so he was straddling Geralt, and once he did so, Geralt smacked their lips together, taking Dandelion’s erection in a firm hold of his large hand. Immediately, his tongue dared pass the soft lips, savouring the bard’s taste, the taste of honey and beer, and stroking the prick in a torturously slow pace while the other hand he weaved into the chestnut wet hair. He was kissing the bard gently, but with passion as he was genuinely enjoying each moment, each movement, each touch, and even the lewd noise, which filled the room as their mouths parted, pleased Geralt’s ears and brought a mild smile upon his lips.

The atmosphere between them was almost painfully different from the one surrounding him and Yennefer when they were together, and it applied to all other women he had been with. He liked spending time with them, of course, but with Dandelion… It was different because of what they had… it felt more… real to Geralt. More real, full of trust, intimacy, friendship, and a certain kind of love, fuelling the bond among them. With women, it was almost always only about sex, however, when Geralt was with his bard, his heart was fluttering with happiness, which obviously happened to be one of the reasons why Geralt at least considered fulfilling every wish Dandelion proclaimed. Well, unless it was something utterly stupid that his sometimes quite naïve friend’s mind came up with.

Dandelion leaned forward, cheeks adorably flushed, and while brushing Geralt’s earlobe with his moist lips, he purred lustfully:

“Your fingers, Geralt… I want your fingers and I want them deep inside me…”

Even though Geralt’s lower lip was clutched between his teeth, the glottal growl got out as a very audible one. The catlike eyes shut closed as Geralt shuddered under the overwhelming wave of arousal, ending up in his cock that twitched and swelled, tenting the white towel.

Opening his eyes again, there was not Dandelion erection in his hand anymore and Geralt learnt it was apparently replaced by a bowl full of some kind of ointment of a really convenient consistency. The witcher hadn’t even noticed Dandelion carried it along, but he quickly assigned it to his advanced age, focusing more on the smell of the ointment and identifying it as honey, which made the wheels inside his head reel. Honey…?

During the white-haired man’s thought processes, Dandelion adjusted himself atop Geralt’s lap, his chest leaning into the witcher’s, his ass poking in the air, so Geralt’s finger could easily find its way to the place. He was actually getting closer right now in order to justify his assumption that not only had the bard tasted the ointment before he visited him, but also that he had prepared himself a bit.

“I was merely making sure whether the consistency would be appropriate,” he murmured softly into Geralt’s ear.

“It’ll be,” was Geralt adamant as the skilled nose of the witcher managed to distinguish that the ointment wasn’t made of any elements that might harm a human being, so he dipped his finger into it, and then proceeded to entrance of his younger friend.

The first finger went inside smoothly, but then Geralt realized Dandelion was, indeed, just trying whether the ointment was pleasant enough… So as he pushed in another digit he was quite careful and patient, slowly coaxing the tight muscles to relax, noticing with a shiver the hot breath on his back. He didn’t rush things up, and only after a few minutes he added the third finger, eliciting a content sigh from his companion. Thrusting the fingers in and out, he kept opening up the pliant body for him, and soon the movements of his hand were fluid because Dandelion knew very well how to ease his muscles as he was rather used to such activities, and… in case they just wanted to fuck, these gentle ministrations weren’t really necessary, but the both of them loved this part, the preparation as Geralt had been saying that Dandelion had a kink for it.

Not just for the foreplay, more like for the act of spreading, of feeling how Geralt’s fingers were pushing deeper and deeper and how his body became hungry for it. How Dandelion wanted more and more while leaning into Geralt’s broad chest that was providing him with stability, making the bard feel safe. However, it’d never been only about the witcher’s strength, but about the bond they were sharing. Dandelion of course had been with so many women it wasn’t possible to count them, but he had always come back to his witcher whose mere presence was similarly intoxicating as the callous fingers, probing him. The bard adored the way these digits were thrusting into him, patiently widening his entrance, preparing him for something bigger, and going in and out constantly…

Yeah, he was obsessed with the feeling and he couldn’t wait to get the fourth finger, for which he asked… respectively he intended to ask verbally, though he only managed to whimper pleadingly as Geralt had just brushed that magical spot within him. Dandelion moaned once again, his cock twitching and throbbing, begging to be touched, begging to get some friction that the bard needed quite urgently, his hips quivering.

Naturally, Geralt understood the state his friend was in, grabbing him firmly by his waist while he put even his pinkie in him. He sniffed at the air and shut his eyes at the delightful smell of honey mixing with something else which he in a span of seconds identified as Dandelion’s pre-cum, oozing out of his cock and dripping on Geralt’s stomach. At the suddenly strong scent Geralt’s movements faltered, but Dandelion sorted the lack of pace by himself, bringing his ass right onto Geralt’s hand, burying the slick fingers inside him and moaning loudly at the sensation.

It was quite obvious the preparations were sufficient, but Geralt wasn’t sure whether Dandelion was willing to proceed to the second part of their evening together, and the bard’s lascivious groan at another thrust of his hand didn’t say him more than that he was enjoying himself very much.

The witcher became worried their vigorous motions would eventually cause ending on the floor, so he ignored the annoyed whine coming from his friend right after Geralt withdrew his fingers from him, and this time he dipped only his thump in the ointment, returning it back to Dandelion’s entrance. With a smug smile, he circled the loosen muscle, teasing the ring, pushing his thumb in just for a second, and Dandelion went crazy in his tight embrace. He held the bard firmly, and even though Geralt wasn’t able to see his hand, he could vividly imagine how Dandelion’s opening must’ve looked like, all loosen, pink, maybe a bit red and swollen, gaping a little, begging to be filled with something way bigger than just a torturing thumb.

At the idea how empty Dandelion must’ve felt Geralt groaned out, their sounds of lust mingling in the air. Geralt’s hips canted against the thin towel, seeking at least some minor friction, and this time it was Dandelion who took the initiative, grinding his erection into Geralt’s, covered under the fabric that, however, was thrown away immediately. His cock springing free and so close to Dandelion’s, and the bard’s delicious moans boosted up Geralt’s arousal to such a level he couldn’t wait anymore.

He was horny, so horny, he just briefly checked on his friend who already looked like he was ready to come untouched, and without any other delay, he grabbed Dandelion by his sides and lowered his ass on his aching cock in a single movement.

Geralt was quite sure his following growl must’ve been undistinguishable from animal’s as he didn’t hold himself back at all, and probably they heard him even in other rooms, which didn’t bother him in the slightest. All of his thoughts were focused on Dandelion and on the warmth, embracing his cock, squeezing him a little, and he literally melted into the touch of Dandelion’s mouth, caressing his neck. Breathing hard, Geralt right away turned his face to him, connecting their lips in a searing kiss.

Without a notion of whether he was pounding into Dandelion, or whether the bard was riding him, he just revelled in the want burning within him, in the wet perfection of Dandelion’s lips, and in the arousal rushing through his veins, pooling in his navy, in his cock that was pushing in and withdrawing from the beautifully hot body above him. He heard himself cry with pleasure, he heard Dandelion beg for more, he heard as the both of them were getting closer and closer… And then he panted, his back arched and he buried his cock even deeper in Dandelion’s ass, the pleasure taking his breath away, making something explode within him before the sweet ecstasy vibrated its way into every part of the witcher’s body, leaving him delightfully exhausted and sated.

Fixing his gaze upon his own stomach, he noticed drops of liquid, spurted on his scarred skin. He kept hugging the younger man, steading him, preventing him from a potential fall, and he also gave him a hand to get every single drop out of his cock. Then he just kissed Dandelion into his chestnut hair, smelling the combination of shampoo and sweat and honey.

And the fireplace had just burn out.

**Author's Note:**

> In some time, I'm going to translate also my second fiction with this pairing (less porny, I'm afraid) :)


End file.
